In my dream there is caution but then tenderness.

In my dream the steel ball hangs from the ceiling and most of my stuff is missing from the welding shop by the time I want to leave.

In my dream I use one lunch box to knock another off the top shelf. I want nothing to do with the panther sized cat that he is picking up out of the corner so I go off singing in joy.

In my dream I say Little Richard reminds me of a specific kind of food although I don’t say what kind.

In my dream biting him doesn’t change the fact that he is possessed.

In my dream we happily chose faces outdoors.

In my dream pink and blue lighting slides along the wall’s surface.

In my dream the mission is to charm the constituency of a small aquarium in Wheels Arizona.

In my dream the antenna is segmented and compact. I tour its length.

In my dream the apartment is a scene of just completed massacre but outside is worse: the vision of a new director who makes every person on the street a lurching murderer, every power line razor wire, every inch a deathly trap. No route is safe through these blocks of carnage and dementia and there is no end to it.

In my dream she grabs the package away from me and scampers behind the counter’s plywood barrier.